What Really Happened
by Kanahit
Summary: What really happened the night Voldemort came after Harry? Read to find out what I think may have happened. COMPLETE


Lily Potter had just put one year old Harry down for his evening nap, and was in the kitchen cleaning the dishes from supper. James was in the living room, reading the Daily Prophet. Sirius had left the house a short while ago after eating a warm supper with the Potters. He had become attached to Harry and often made excused to come over just to play with the quickly growing baby.

Lily dried and stacked the dishes with a few flicks of her wand. Another flick, and they went into the cupboard. She dried her hands on a towel, and went into their bedroom to get her book to read. James flipped through the paper as Lily was finishing dishes. He saw something stir outside the window and looked up in time to see a black shadow slip past. Slowly, he closed the newspaper and stood up, slipping his wand from his pocket.

He tensed as a green light filtered through the keyhole of the locked door and there was a click. The door swung open, showing a tall, hooded figure. The hood fell back revealing a long, thin, pale face with red eyes, with cat-like slits for pupils.

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Run! I'll hold him off!" James shouted, pointing his wand at the intruder.

Voldemort slashed his long wand through the air, sending a flash of orange light at James.

"Protego!" shouted James, making a shield around himself.

As Lily heard James shout, her heart stopped. She dashed up the stairs, to Harry's room. Harry had awoken and was crying loudly. She picked the baby up, rubbing his back soothingly, while inside, she was panicking.

James and Voldemort fought back and forth, spell against spell. Hex against hex. Sixty four incantations were shouted in that space of time. One spell bounced off Voldemort's shield, and took a door off its hinges.

James dodged the falling door, and Voldemort took advantage of this. "Avada Kedavra!" He roared, his wand pointed at James. A jet of green light shot towards James, who fell to the floor instantly, the door falling on top of him.

Voldemort quickly made his way up to Harry's room, upstairs. Lily screamed, backing up into the crib as he entered the room, pointing his wand at the baby in her arms.

"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please -- I'll do anything--" Lily pleaded helplessly.

"Stand aside. Stand aside, girl!" Voldemort hissed. "Don't make me kill you. The child is all I want."

"No! Never!" Lily cried, turning her back, clutching the now silent and shaking Harry to her chest.

"Very well, then.. Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hissed, his wand pointed to her heart.

With a shriek, Lily dropped Harry down into the crib before she fell to the debris-strewn floor, dead. Voldemort stepped up to Harry, who was gazing up at him, his eyes wide.

"Avada Kedavra!" Voldemort hissed, his wand tip against the boy's forehead. What happened next was not what he had expected, or anticipated.

The spell backfired on him, causing him to fall back with a shriek. "Potter!" he shrieked before vanishing.

The house was still and silent, save for Harry's whimpers from the cut bleeding on his head, in the shape of a lightning bolt. He gazed through the side of his cage, at his lifeless mother. Why wasn't she moving?

There was a crack from above and part of the ceiling fell into the crib and onto Harry. He was unable to move, his messy black hair grey with plaster dust.

Downstairs, there was movement. James Potter was alive. The spell shot at him had missed, hitting the wall behind him, instead. He pulled himself out from under the door that had kept him immobile, and quietly crept up the stairs.

It was clear Voldemort had been here. Debris was everywhere. James walked into Harry's room, afraid of what he would find. He rushed to Lily, kneeling beside her. He lifted her face, and the emerald green eyes that had once shown hatred, then best of all, love, were now dark and lifeless. James held in a sob, then looked up into the crib. Harry was unmoving, his eyes closed. Plaster from the ceiling had fallen onto him, covering his hair with a soft, white powder. Dried blood surrounded a cut on his forehead. To James it appeared his son was dead.

James now let the tears flow freely down his face as he stood. He walked over to the mirror that was in the shape of a cartoon character's head. It was broken and one of Mickey's ears was on the other side of the room. James slowly brushed the dust off, and gazed into the cracked mirror. His wife and son were dead. His mother and father had been killed by Voldemort's followers only two years before.

James gazed into the mirror for a minute longer before raising his wand, pointing it at the reflection of himself in the mirror. He never noticed the small noise from the crib.

"Avada Kedavra." 


End file.
